Chinook series Evacuation
by MosinM38
Summary: Leaving behind a deadly town. WARNING NEWBISH.....
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:The name "Jericho" and all character names and trademarks associated with the television program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following stories are works of fan fiction intended solely as an intellectual exercise without profit motive. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied.

Warning's: AMATERUISH...Among the first fiction I ever wrote. This and the next two chapters...But for sake of that I already wrote it (And I am busy writing more), I am not re-writing them. ALSO...This series is a little "Off" of the rest of the Chinook chapters. SO take this one with a grain of salt.

Description: Due to not including Jericho directly I thought I would give a brief description. This revolves around a small town roughly 65 miles north of Jericho called Chinook.. The main characters will be a single family but sections will be included from many nieghbor's.

Timeline(Roughly): Bombs +40 days.

Feedback: Don't bother...This series is a old one, and almost not worth adding. But here it is.

--

3:30 AM. Normal time.

Why did he have a bad feeling? He felt as if something had woke him up, but he didn't hear anything now. He reached down alongside the bed and picked up his pair of shoe's and his gun belt. He was already dressed. Long ago he had started wearing full clothes to bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and laced up the pair of work boots.

Standing, he buckled on the belt. He looked down at the gun and caressed it. The one thing he truly treasured was that gun. He got it a couple of days before the attacks. A brand new S&W Magnum. A few people ridiculed it. Calling it overbore and uselessly powerful... As if they knew what was useful. He stuck cartridges in a couple of empty loops.

He reached towards the chair alongside his bed and picked up the armor vest. It wasn't much. Light sections flat-iron steel secured to a regular vest. But it was a lot better than nothing. And it stopped most small caliber rounds such as 9MM and buckshot. He secured it, picked up his Ruger Mini-14, a couple extra magazines and a small red-lens flashlight and headed towards the bedroom door.

As he walked down the hall his foot crashed through the floor "Damn cheap trailer house" he muttered. The floor there rotted away from rain coming through the roof and sitting there. He walked further sidestepping to similar hole getting to the larger room at the other end of the small 36' trailer. He slowly and quietly peer's out the window's. Seeing nothing he walks over to a hole purposely cut into the floor and drew out a bottle of water, a small handful of jerked meat and a apple. May be an odd place but the underside of the trailer was about the coolest spot around.

He opened the door, flipped off the light and stepped outside cautiously. He looked over the building and saw what woke him up. A piece of tin had come loose in the wind and was lying alongside the house. He looked over the aging building. 30 years old and hadn't been used for 5 years. Not what some would call habitable. But. It was near their main grain storage and fuel tanks. Someone had to stay there and keep a eye on things.

Waiting outside the building he blinked several times. It was still extremely dark outside and it took a bit for his eye's to adjust to it. Finally good enough, he walked away and began his circle. He first made his way to the closest gas tank and checked it. Finding nothing unusual he makes his way to 2 other fuel tanks and around the grain bin's.

He didn't see nothing until coming to the last one... In the night someone had come and tried to pry into it. Apparently they hadn't brought a vehicle in order to not alert anyone. A crowbar wasn't gonna get that locked door open. Once the raiding had begun his dad had welded extra bars on the doors that could be then be bolted and padlocked to the bin.

He finalized checking the graineries and then worked his way out of the circle of bins, fuel tanks and the lone trailer towards the main house a quarter mile south. Closer to the river it was the main buildings. That was where the majority of the fuel was along with the vehicles. ATV's, Pick-up's, truck's and heavy machinery had all been moved there to keep a eye on it. The fuel and grain where he had slept the night couldn't be moved. So they took turns. Different person each night stayed there and kept watch. Waking up every 2 hours to make a check.

He came closer to the main buildings and looked at his watch again. 4:15 AM. His dad was probably up and about. He didn't see any lights but he didn't expect to. Walking closer flipped on his flashlight. This time of night anyone not showing themselves was likely to get shot. He went up closer to the house and rapped on the door. Within a moment or two it opened and his father John stepped out.

"I got up a little early. Lets go finish that truck" he said. Grant followed behind him as he finished slinging his rifle. A Colt AR15. A sporting version of the military rifle. Ironically it had been bought a few days before a law banning them was emplaced... Also ironically by his mother-in-law as an anniversary present.

They reached the main shop and halted beside a power pole. Their tractor-powered generator was already hooked up to it. No power was forth-coming from the power company so they just routed it straight from the generator. "Guess we better start it. We will need the air-tool's for awhile" John mentioned.

Nodding Grant climbed into the tractor and started it. The generator powered to life and inside the shop the lights flickered on. He climbed out and went inside the shop. On the one half of the building resided an old Chevy grain truck. It was old but the best one they had. All but one rear section of the box was covered in 1/2" flat-iron. Reinforced support bars were welded from the bottom to help support the extra weight.

Grant went over to the other side of the shop and helped John push a cherry picker holding the last section of flatiron next to the truck. After about a hours work it was secured next to the other sections. The entire box was now fully armored with 1/2" flatiron. The very rear of the box was removed and replaced with a heavy duty-swinging door made out of 1/4" flat-iron. The front of the truck was armored as well where they could put it. They had to be careful how much to add and where or it wouldn't support the weight. The front had a new grill-guard installed on it. Heavy iron bar's fixed directly to the frame. The truck would be destroyed before it ever would be. Perfect in case of plowing through roadblocks.

John straightened from the work. "We are done. Lets go finish up some of our work. We gotta leave early if we want to get to town and be back before dark."

Grant nodded, picked up his rifle and went outside to the barnyards. He went over to the horse pen. The 2 inside trotted over to the fence at the sight of him coming and knickered softly. Beautiful Montana Traveler's. He halfway cringed when he came up to them. They hadn't had time to get them into good riding shape before the attack and now they even less time... You could ride them but being young and spirited they would usually dump your ass at least once. He didnt mind that part but the thought of 2 horses as nice as that being less trained... Ah well. Time would come sometime to finish them.

He threw over their ration of hay. A little less than most times but hay was short and they wanted to stretch it.  
Walking around some more, he threw hay over for their 4 milk cows, goat's and a very skim scattering of wheat for the chickens and geese.

He started to head back to the main house and met his mom, Deb, coming to the barn with the milk-pails. "Got 'em all fed?" she asked. "Yeah mom. Finish up as soon as possible. I'm gonna go see what Dad has got planned." She nodded and kept going.

He got back to the shop and John was just finishing checking their Dodge. They had added it's armor plating a week ago and had put 50 miles on it. He wanted to see how it held up. The box had been plated, as had the re-enforced grill guard and in smaller sections most of the hood, along with the doors to hopefully deflect the majority of any bullets.

Straightening he wiped his hands on a rag ,and then spoke "Looks like everything's ready. We will stop up a Calvin's on the way and tell him we are gone and pick Dan up at his place. Get the stuff ready."

"Got it dad" Grant said. He went to their house and stepped into the 'Armory.' Formerly it was the gunroom. He stepped over to the gun-safe and opened it. He plucked out a Pump action 12 Gauge and a bandolier of shells. It sported a full 28" barrel hardly what most people would call 'Ideal' but it was what they had. He also grabbed a scoped bolt action. Accurate, it had enough power to blast through most light armor and destroy anything underneath. He then shut the door and twirled the combination to lock it then left the house.

An hour later they left the small cluster of buildings and headed out the lane leading into their place. The truck in the lead driven by John, followed by the Dodge driven by Deb with Grant riding shotgun. They exited the lane and turned onto a main gravel road leading west towards the local town of Chinook. They happened to meet Calvin Annet while he was out riding patrol around his place and told him that they were gone from their buildings. His own place was 2 miles north of the Stout's and nestled on top of some low hills. Easily capable of watching their place if needed.

They stopped at Dan Stout's house, which neighbored Calvin Annet's house on the way to Harlem and picked him up. He was John's brother. He climbed into the grain truck carrying a SKS carbine. This trip was to pick up 3 families in Chinook that had agreed to move to the Stout's home place to help defend it and work it. The town was quickly being overrun by homegrown gang's and raiders and just wasn't safe. They had gambled on taking their chance out in the country farther from civilization. Stout's needed them due to increased manual labor vs. what was done my fuel-driven vehicles.  
They drove for 13 miles and slowly came closer to town. As they came close to the city limits a police car barricaded the road ahead of them and 2 officers exited the vehicle.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I dont own Jericho. You know the drill.

Warnings: PG 13. Mild Language.

Timeline (Roughly): Bombs+40 days.

Explanation. Chinook is a small town 65 miles north of jericho.  
Also it will all be one long book. Possibly branch out later. It will all be labeled 1,2,3, until i change it a bit later possibly.

_He remembered before the gangs came.Slowly at first but quickly flourished.The police were ignorant and the people refused to believe it could happen in thier town.When the bomb's went up they could best take advantage of the helpless._

The 2 officer's exited the vehicle. One aimed a pump shotgun over the hood while the other held up a blowhorn.

"Lay down your weapons. Do not cross the line or you will be fired upon."  
2 sawhorses on each side of the road apparently signified the line.  
John shut off the truck and shouted out the window.

"No doin. How do we know we can get protection inside the town limits? What we have heard your barely holding onto it now,"

The one officer spoke into his radio. On the Stouts radio the scanner picked up his calling for backup. Soon a older ford with a make-do Sherriff's symbol painted on the side pulled up. A man stepped out and took the bullhorn from the officer

"Name and business," came a voice.  
John again shouted

"Stout's. We are coming in to pick up a few people and take them back out to our ranch."

At that the man dropped the bullhorn and motioned the 2 officers to leave. They glanced at the armored truck pulling up before turning their car around and heading back into town.  
The new arrival walked up to the truck.

"Hey Redman. Got sherrif did you?" Asked John.

"Yeah. Huestis got himself killed about a week ago." The man replied.

"Whats with those 2 guys?" John asked ",They didnt seem the brightest."

"No," replied Redman ",New recruits. The Sherrif's department got them a couple day's before the attack's. Brand new badge's, looking to make points and show themselves off as authority don't mix with this kinda disaster...I doubt they even realized what they were up against," As Redman finished saying it he looked back at the rifle barrel's stuck out of window's and armor plating layering the sides of the 2 outfits.

"Yeah. Probably not. Anyway. We are heading in. Anything we should watch for?" John asked.

"We got the Town hall, bank, grocery store, highschool and firehouse barracaded together. We are keeping a handle on most of the north part of town. Not much damage done there. The south part next to the road heading to the highway is pretty much done for. The 108 Gang controls most of the west part of town. The rest we just wont risk our officers lives. There's so many ambush's and dug in trouble we aint gonna risk it," Redman replied.

"Okay. Thanks for the head's up," John said. He started the truck and they pull into town.

The truck slowed down and pulled to a halt next to a older house about in the middle of town. Deb pulled in behind it and all 4 people exited the vehicles. A face appeared at one of the window's and the man stepped out

"What the hell took you so long?" Asked Dale Caflan. ",We have had so many dumbass's trying to kill us I thought we thought we would hafta leave without you"

"Sorry. Took us longer than we thought to get into town. We had to burgler proof our grainbin's and fuel tanks, plus do some work on our outfits," John said gesturing to the truck and pickup.

Dale shrugged his shoulders ",It's times like these I wish I wasn't a gunsmith. That's why I had so much trouble. Everyone wanted to get into my house and take what was in it. Even if they did I doubt they would get into my safe so I wasn't worried...But it didnt stop them from trying," he added motioning at the house. The largest part of the wall's that didnt have a bullet hole was a 6 inch circle near the ground.The rest of the house looked like swiss cheese.

"Damn good thing you had a basement," Commented John.

Calflan nodded ",Well let's get going. Someone may show up and I want to get out of here."

"Okay," John said" ,Weapons, ammunition, food and clothing first. If there is room we will take hierlooms. Remember we got 2 more families to pick up."

Dale stopped and turned to John before laying a hand on his shoulder..."You dont know then? Theres only 1 more family... The...Carson's..."

John Carson had been John's best friend for years. Best man at each others wedding.  
Thier wives and family had been close over the years. Hardly a week went by where they didnt have supper together even though the Stout's lived 15 miles out of town.

"Dead?" Asked John.

Dale nodded his head "Yes...Im sorry...108 came in. Lined them up... And executed them... You know that they have hated them for a long time...In this confusion they took advantage of the opportunity.He made them pay for it though. I got there a hour too late and found 5 bodies in the front yard and house. All wearing 108 markers."

Choking a bit John says ",Good riddance and to hell with the son's a bitches."

Dale nodded.  
He turned back to the house and hesitated a moment.

"There was...Sharon... she wasnt among the dead". Reffering to the Carson's oldest daughter.

"She wasnt? Any idea's? Escape or..did they take her?" John asked. Shrugging Caflan replied ",I dont know" And with that conversation ended.

Soon items were moving out of the bullet-riddled house. Cases of canned food, weapons, ammunition and clothing came out of the building. Dale's wife Lori, son David and a adopted daughter Kyra helped along with them.

John stayed to the edge keeping watch for any activity. No-one bothered him knowing how he felt after hearing of the Carson's.  
Finally Dale stretched and said ",We got everything we can take. The rest...stay's inside."

Grant stepped up to him ",You sure you want to do this? You put stuff in your safe in the basement they wont get to it without completely destroying it."

He nodded ",Yes... it has to be. I wouldnt let those wolves have ANYTHING for anything in the world." He then removed a book of matches from his pocket walked inside to the heavy shag-wool carpet ,and hesitated a moment before dropping 3 differant matches ,and went outside. He looked back at his home for 20 years ,and then turned ,and never looked back.

Him and his family got into a old station wagon heavily loaded down with stuff and pulled out behind the small convoy. As they moved on to the last family thier house behind them reached a pinnacle. Flames leapt high into the air. Taking with it the house and any chance the pillaging groups would have had of salvage.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I only own the characters I created. Not Jericho. or teh jericho universe.

Warnings: Mild Language. Mild Violence.

Details: In the Chinook Universe. A slightly alter Jericho universe centering ona town 65 Miles North of Jericho.Mainly revolves around teh Stout family although other points of view will be added.

About post: I had this wrote a fair bit ago. Right behind chap 1+2 Evacuation. It was my very first part and newbishly written. Rather than re-edit it. I am posting it and will re-write all 3 at a later date.

Feedback: Please leave. Even if you hate it post! Tell me WHY.

The small convoy pulled up in front of the last house. It looked abandoned. But upon exiting the vehicles a guy came out of the house cradling a lever action rifle under one arm.

"Howdy.Was wondering when you would show up," He said quite jovially.",Been having a tough time keeping ahold on control around here."

"Royal don't you ever get pissed off?" Asked Dale.

"Well. I tried once... Didnt like it.. hehehehe," The man chuckled.

"Well. We're here let's get loading," Grant said.

"Hey Grant," Called John, "Me and Deb are heading over to the Lumberyard. See if there is anything needed and catch any news. After that we will be right back"

Nodding Grant went up to the house and greeted Royal Lunden's wife Betty.  
After brief conversation stuff began moving out of their house into the grain truck.

John and Deb hopped into the dodge and they drove accross town to the lumberyard. On the way they had to avoid smoldering cars, downed telephone poles and abandoned barracades.

Soon Deb noticed that the lumberyard wasn't their only stop. John stopped the pickup just outside the charred rubble of the Carson's former home.

Against his better judgement he got out and walked over to the 5 graves on teh front lawn. Dale Caflan had done his best for a proper burial. He didn't gain any pity over the sight of 3 108 members in plain view along the hedge. Their bodies already beyond reognition.

He kneeled in front of the one grave and looked at the rough words carved in the plank.

Carl Carson. Born 1963 Deceased 2006.

He broke down and began crying a little. Deb came up and wrapped her arm around him.

"I killed them Deb... it's all my fault," he softly said.

"No you didn't," Deb replied softly, "You can't blame yourself for what the 108 did. If it had been us here that god damned gang would have done the same to us."

"Not that," John replied.

_FLASHBACK_

_Carl looked up at John "We would be ready to go within 3 days. Would you be wanting to be back to pick us up by then?"_

_"If you don't mind I would like to wait a bit. I want to get some stuff finished up at our place before you arrive. Would 3 weeks be soon enough? There shouldn't be any real danger in that time" John replied._

_Carl nodded slowly, "We should be good enough until then."_

John stood up, "Nothing can be done now," He started, "Lets go Deb."

They went back to the pickup and climbed in.

Upon arriving they found the lumberyard much as they expected. Before the attacks it had been circled with a high wire fence with concertena wire on top. There had been enough inside worth stealing such as lumber ,oil,tools and in the winter months they doubled as fur buyers they needed the protection.

Now it had small holes cut in the wire and behind the holes, sandbags to form shooting bunkers. In front of the main gate there was a criss-cross of cement filled 55 gallon drums requiring careful driving to get through them.Thus preventing any vehicles from smashing into the compound. Upon going through the gate a pair of armed gaurds checked them in and finally allowed them to pass.

They pulled into the compound and found it bustling with activity. Trucks pulled out with armed gaurd's in them while pickups pulling trailors full of sacked grain entered.

They parked the outfit and got out. Deb met a couple of friends and stopped to talk while John went inside the main building. Inside he found equal activity to outside. He saw the owner motion to one man holding a sack of grain and noticed the man's shoulders slump as he picked it up and went outside.  
John went up to the owner and said, "How's it going Charlie?"

He turned saw John and cringed, "Im sorry. I aint taking whole grain. I got to much as it is."

John looked at him solemnly, "That isn't why I am here...But it does explain why that guy left so sad looking."

Charlie Becket nodded sadly, "I hate doing it. But everybody has grain right now.So far i have turned down... too many people with it... It just isnt worth nothing HERE. It has value elsewhere. But to transport it? Thats another story. What DO you want?"

John replied, "Not much. Mainly an idea of what's going on outside. Plus see what's selling around here."

"It's all up on the blackboard. New's, what's selling and anything else of interest. Now if you excuse me," He cut short the conversation and went back to his office.

John left and went back to the main counter. He looked up at the wall at the massive blackboard. On it was the stuff selling. Gun's,ammunition,canned food's and preserved meat appeared to be highest on the list. On the bottom wheat was boldly emblazoned with NO SALE.

He looked at the news board and looked it over. A trading outpost called Blackjack had been started about 120 miles north. Iodine and Salt appeared to have high prices going in trading post's further south and east.New Bern was in need for food of any kind, but what they were offer wasnt known. A town called Jericho was in need of wheat as well. They offered salt apparently.

He stepped out of the building and into the main square. He met up with Deb and they walked back to the pickup. They met another group of local's and began talking until a long flurry of gunfire erupted to the north of them. After listening a moment they realize that it is coming from the direction of the Lunden's house and break for the pickup at a dead run.

Grant ducked behind the cement step and jammed in another magazine.  
Bullets impacted on the opposite side of the step while others went overhead.  
He risked a quick glance to see what the 108 was doing. He saw 4 men armed with assault rifles firing from behind a rusting car while another half dozen or so were trying to gain ground towards them by running from cover to cover.He looked to his right and saw Dale and Royal pinned down alongside the truck. Turning back to the street he saw 2 shotgun armed men run behind a building.

"DALE," he shouted, "COMING UP BEHIND"

The man nodded and then made a rush for his station wagon. Grant leaned over the top of the step's and rapid fired his rifle at the men behind the car.  
He stopped as his rifle ran dry and jammed in another magazine. He slowed his breathing and reminded himself to not waste ammunition. He looked back at Dale and saw him dive away from the station wagon and take refuge behind the house.

Grant turned and made a dash from the steps around the house corner. A blaze of fire answered from the house. His uncle Dan and Betty saw what he did and tried to give him covering fire.  
As he rounded the corner he looked with some amazement at Dale. He had opened up a box and from within drawn out a MAC-10. He inserted a magazine and chambered a round.

"Stay here," he told Grant, "I am gonna go head them off."

Before he could object the man had scurried off 2 houses down in the direction Grant had last seen the 2, 108 members.

He leaned around the corner of the house and peered through his scope. One man farther down the street had a scoped bolt action and appeared to be aiming carefully at the house.  
Grant quickly centered the man in the crosshair's and pulled the trigger twice. Hit, the man staggered back before collapsing onto the street. As he ducked behind cover Grant drew in his breath... He had finally killed a man. He had wounded several before but never had taken a life. He was somewhat shaken for a moment.

He was rattled out of this by quick burst's of automatic fire. Within moments Dale had returned with the MAC-10. He replaced the magazine and leaned close to Grant's ear.

"I am gonna go get behind them. You watch Royal," He shouted

Grant nodded then leaned around the corner. Royal was carefully firing his lever action with some preciseness, he fired a shot and one of the 108 men dropped to the street. Some of the fight was beginning to go out of them.

What sealed it was the dodge pickup that roared in behind them. John drove the truck straight towards the men hunkered behind a old car. Deb leaned out the window and emptied the shotgun at the group. 1 Fell while a second jerked but kept running. The remainder of the group scattered like leave's in the wind.

For a few fleeting seconds he pressed down the gas petal in pursuit. The anger over his friends death enflamed him for a moment. But a few seconds later he calmed himself and slowed down teh truck. Pulling back to the house.

He stopped the pickup behind the grain truck and got out.

"Anyone hurt?" he asked.

Grant and Dale walked up, followed by Royal. The remainder, Dan, Betty, Lori, David and Kyra all came out of the house unharmed.

"Okay. Lets finish loading and get the hell out of here." He said.

A hour later the grain truck followed by 3 vehicles and the armored dodge pulling up the rear, pulled out of Chinook heading back to the ranch. Taking with it 6 new inhabitants and a new lease on life.


End file.
